This is a song about "Him being good at math"

We was loonie i suppose, you could

No forgive him for your own good

Close your eyes bitch, i'm all in your ear

I applaud him, at that time here

I like my bitches good at math

And when it come to the cash

50,000 ones before i hit the lobby

Just look at my good body

And nearly choked when he'd tell me not to smokedaaamn, don't get me started

Boys were mean to him and swore at him and made him want to vomit

Hip hop's bounty, hunter

Tell him to stop being vulgar,

My bitches is perfect, i tell 'em boxing for your ass

You tell me 'one strike,' well, good thing i was never good at math.